Time Will Tell
by bluelily3
Summary: Years past, there had been a woman in Shimada Kambei's life. She had been Yukino's sister, and she had broken his heart. Now she seeks his forgiveness. But Kambei remains stubborn and hurt, and the woman's hope is fading.


Long ago, she had known and loved a young man. He had been an aspiring samurai, and had already made his first kill. He was a man from the South, with dark skin and he was kind and true. She fell in love with his wisdom and strength, and he returned her affection. She could make him smile and laugh like no one else could. But he loved her so fiercely that she became afraid. Someday he would be a full-fledged samurai; his hands stained with blood. She would never feel completely safe, as he would be restless and would be prone to wandering. So she pushed him away, denying her love for him. He knew something was wrong, but she kept him away, stinging him with hateful words. Heartbroken, he vanished, and there were rumors that he'd killed himself. But she knew better. He had joined the Great War, and soon became a legend. Somehow, though, he never won a fight. She was plagued with guilt, feeling that she had killed his spirit. The woman's name was Yumari, sister of Yukino.

Mari had enough. Today she would set things straight. She felt the darkness in her heart eating at her, and she sought forgiveness. All of these years she had been stubborn and afraid, but now there was no purpose for that. News had reached her that Kambei had returned, and he had retired from the sword. This was her last chance. The last time she had seen him, he had been in the city with a group of six other samurai and some villagers. She had been too stubborn to apologize to him then, and she remembered how he just stood in her kimono shop with his empty eyes staring back at her. Later, her sister told her about the farm girl who had fallen in love with Shimada. Mari just scoffed. He had vowed that he would love no one else, and even though she had ruined his heart, she still believed he would adhere to his vow. Even if it killed him, Shimada Kambei had always been the kind of man who would keep his word. But Yumari already had a feeling that it was much too late.

"Where is Yukino?"

"Oh, she's around..." Shichiroji shrugged. Kambei's eyes narrowed.

"She was just here." His friend feigned surprise.

"Why so suspicious? You don't think she's gonna run off on me, do you? Not that I'd blame her." But Kambei refused to play games.

"I'm no fool. I heard the back door sliding shut. She went into the city."

"Yeah? She went to replenish some stuff that we need."

"Don't lie to me, Shichiroji. You have an inventory staff to do that for you, and Yukino never leaves the tea house at this time of the night."

"Now calm down, Kambei. Have another drink." He poured a cup of sake and pushed it towards his friend. Kambei only frowned and looked away. He knew he was being toyed with, and he didn't like it. He also knew that Yukino was still on good terms with her sister, and she liked to play matchmaker. He had seen how she had fawned over Kirara, trying to get her to make herself pretty for him, and whispering advice in the girl's ear. He wouldn't tolerate it again, not this time. Yukino had to respect his wishes. And he had no wish for a woman's love. Especially not if the woman was Yumari.

When she came into the room through the sliding door, he stared straight into her eyes. His own dark eyes sparked into a fire, but it wasn't with anything that resembled love. They burned with fury. She flinched and stayed behind her younger sister. Did her presence make him this angry? Had he known she was coming, and did he feel betrayed by his friends? He reminded her of a beast, backed into a corner. She knew he didn't want to be here. Yukino took a few steps forward on her knees. She gave her new husband a meaningful glance.

"Come on, Shichiroji. We have guests to entertain." Kambei's face changed from anger to disgust. He looked at his friend like he'd draw his blade on him, if he had one. But the blond man backed out of the door with his wife, avoiding Kambei's eyes.

As soon as the door slid shut, it seemed as if the temperature in the air took a plunge. Mari wasn't prepared for this. She hadn't known that he would be so angry with her. The few times that she had seen him since they were young, he was sad, sick of heart, and recently, just empty. Now his whole body was tense, like he was about to bolt. She slowly knelt down across from him.

"Would you care for some sake?" His voice was ice. He didn't wait for her to offer, so that must me he really wanted to leave. She simply nodded. As he poured her a cup, her heart skipped a beat. The flowers. He still wore their flowers on the backs of his hands. She took a sip from her cup, then cleared her throat.

"I see you still have the flowers." Her voice was low and calm. He looked at her then, and his eyes had changed from fire to ice.

"The ink is permanent. I have no choice." All this time, Yumari had thought he had gotten rid of them somehow, and hidden the wounds with white gloves.

"I'm sure you could have found a way to remove them."

He scowled at her.

"And cut off my hands? No. I choose to keep them." She wasn't sure if he meant his hands or the flowers. _It must be painful for him to see them all the time and be reminded of the days when we were kind to each other, _she thought.

In their hometown, there had been a field where white flowers had grown, each adorned with six-pointed petals. She and Shimada had spent a lot of time in those fragrant fields; training, making love, and sharing their dreams and ideas with each other as they lay on the warm grass. She would wear the flowers in her hair, and playfully put them in his. He had always kept his hair long, even back then.

Later in their relationship, when he started to sense she was afraid, he had gotten the flowers inked on. They were on his hands because he would use both of them to protect her, always. But she kept imagining him being killed; laying somewhere in a field, the flowers colored red with his life's blood. The nightmares would not go away, and it slowly formed a monster in her. She knew that Shimada wouldn't understand, because he was young and fearless.

Seeing him here now, with those flowers on his hands, and his hair still long, just like the old days, she couldn't hold it in anymore. Mari bowed her head and let the tears slide slowly down her face.

"Shimada..." she whispered. "I am sorry... I..." Her words stuck in her throat.

"I broke a young girl's heart." It was so abrupt that Mari turned her eyes towards his.

"I broke her heart, just as you have broken mine. I couldn't bear that she loved me. I might have been happy with her. She was young... but very kind and courageous. But I have nothing to give because of you." He paused for a moment, staring into the distance, then his eyes locked on hers.

"I fought in the Great Wars, and every battle brought me closer to death. I wanted to die; I welcomed it. But every time, I lost. I lost the battle, and I lost my wish. I did all of this because of you. You have broken me, Yumari. I am nothing." He blinked, and a single tear ran town his dark cheek.

"Seeing your face does nothing but torment me." He stood up then, and just as he brushed past her, she grabbed his scarf.

"Shimada, don't." He stopped, his back turned from her.

"Please. What must I do to earn your forgiveness? You have forgiven so many people had have been so kind. Tell me what to do." He turned around, and watched her as she sobbed. She whispered _"please" _over and over again. He knelt down next to her, and sat in silence.

"What did I do?" Kambei's voice was soft. Mari shook her head.

"Nothing, Shimada. You did nothing, except love me."

"Then...why? Why did you drive me away?"

"I was afraid..."

"Afraid? Of me?"

"No, no. Not you. I was never afraid of you, Shimada."

"What, then?"

"You were samurai. Never still, always in motion. Like the river." She was silent for a moment, and he waited patiently.

"You loved me with so much passion. But your life was dangerous. It's not that I didn't think you'd would protect me, but..." She touched his dark hand then, rubbing her thumb on the flower, his promise.

"I couldn't lose you. I couldn't wait around for you to be killed. I knew you couldn't stay in one place for long. You were a wanderer, and I let you go." He was silent for a long time, then his sudden voice sent a pang through her heart.

"I would have stayed...for you...I wouldn't have left you alone..." There were unshed tears in his whisper. But there was still anger in his eyes when he looked at her again.

"It was selfish, what you did. You denied me your love, therefore you denied me happiness. I am beyond repair now. I have forgotten how to love." He said those last words in a barely audible whisper, but she heard them. For a brief moment, they were quiet, then she took his face in her hands.

"I haven't forgotten, Shimada. I still love you." She dropped her hands in her lap when he couldn't find the words to respond.

"I will never forgive myself. I'm dying inside each day, knowing what I have done to you." She looked over at him, and he was looking at the table again, his long hair covering his face, and his hands placed before him, perfectly still.

"But we are still alive and breathing. That means we are still able to love." Her rich voice carried to him, and he drew himself up, gazing at her with his eyes, now warmer then before.

"You are right. I suppose anything that draws breath can love..." A puzzled frown took over his features. Then, he slowly smiled.

Still sitting beside him, she reached out and touched his hair. The memories of the flower field rushed back to her, and she leaned into chest. There was still a hint of blood and sweat in his scent, but it was fading. The smell of the outdoors was stronger, just like it had been before.

"Please forgive me, Shimada." She whispered. He responded by putting his warm hands on her back, and pulling her closer to him.

"Give me time, Mari." She nodded, and smiled to herself at the nickname. He had not called her that since they were lovers.

She would wait for him again. Only this time, she wasn't waiting for him to die, but to live.


End file.
